


insinuation

by fuzzbucket



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, andrew is a neat freak, canonish, he's not meeting the kids yet, meredith's babysitter deserves a nobel prize, things are getting serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 20:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzbucket/pseuds/fuzzbucket
Summary: She’s really, exquisitely, thrillingly happy. And everyone’s noticed, and while at first it was funny, now it’s annoying her a little bit.Why Meredith doesn't like getting teased about Andrew, and what she's planning to do about it.





	insinuation

**Author's Note:**

> Still suffering from a bit of writer's block, and next week's promo got my wheels turning just a tiny bit. 
> 
> I also might be making Andrew a little too Everyone's Ideal Boyfriend here, but I'm... kind of okay with that? And if I end up writing more chapters of this, he will be a little less ideal, because being a normal human with flaws is also sexy.

It’s funny, she muses as she drives home, how Andrew has insinuated himself into her life.

At first, it was stolen kisses and quick flirtations in hallways. He was a surprise she got at work. A beautiful, Italian-speaking surprise, who would smile at her from the gallery and bring her coffee in the lab.

It evolved into dates and evenings spent together, usually at his place. She’d go home and there would be no evidence of where she’d been or who she’d seen, other than sex hair and, occasionally, a leftover homemade cannoli in her bag.

Then they started getting sloppy about the rules – he’d stroke her hand passing her in the hallway at work, they’d kiss in the lobby at the end of the day, and a couple of times things got out of hand in supply closets. He’d spend the night and sneak out first thing. They’d have minor squabbles, mostly about where to sleep, and mostly for the makeup sex.

It’s not like they were trying to keep it a secret; Meredith had told who she needed to tell, and everyone else could figure it out on their own. In a life full of secrets – in a life where she _had been_ a secret – she relished the openness of their relationship. Even more, she relished how little people seemed to care, and she was left wondering if maybe she and Derek had been honest all along, if it would have spared them some heartache.

She also knows that the gender reversal of the power dynamic is part of it. No one doubts Andrew’s skills and abilities just because he’s sleeping with his boss; or, if they do, they certainly don’t say so. She supposes that’s one benefit to her name being plastered all over the hospital.

If she weren’t so happy, she might be pretty pissed about that. But she’s not.

And she is – she’s really, exquisitely, thrillingly happy. And everyone’s noticed, and while at first it was funny, now it’s annoying her a little bit.

She knows that no one begrudges her happiness. But calling Andrew her _boyfriend_ – joking about how good-looking he is – joking about how he’s dating up – it’s starting to annoy her, because it’s so trivializing.

Those that make cracks about him being her _boyfriend_ don’t know that one night last month, she woke up from a dream having a panic attack, and he held her in his arms until her breathing calmed, and then listened to her talk about the dream – a flashback to the woods and the cold – until the sun was peeking around the curtains and his alarm went off. They don’t know that he loves to have someone to take care of, that he’s run a bath for Meredith at his apartment on numerous occasions, and that he made Bailey chicken soup when he had a cold. They don’t know that sometimes, at his place, he’ll wake with her and drive her home in the middle of the night, back to her kids.

Those that tease her about how _handsome_ he is don’t know how he looks in the middle of the night, always facing her or holding her, never with his back turned. They don’t know how his body feels against hers, how some days she could just crawl onto the couch with him and never leave. They don’t know that when he wakes up in the morning, he sleepily blinks, cat-like, and kisses her immediately.

It’s those that make jokes about how she’s dating a _resident_ when she’s Meredith _goddamn_ Grey – that’s when she starts to get pissed. She knows that was her once and it enrages her. She is not _better_ than him, she is not _more worthy_ than him. People who make those jokes don’t understand how he is uniquely gifted – he is the kind of man who can help put her, Twisted Sister Dark and Twisty, back together, with no pieces missing. He’s the kind of man who can stand beside her in the OR for twenty-seven hours and be consistently amazing and not complain once. He’s the kind of man who could hold her kids and help them with homework and her heart wouldn’t break when she saw it, because it would feel right.

She arrives home and she knows how far he’s insinuated himself into her life when she gets in the door and finds his jacket hanging in her hallway and his motorcycle helmet on the table. She kicks off her Converse – now with insoles, because her back can’t handle double-digit-hour surgeries the way it used to – and they land next to his sneakers.

Her kids aren’t home yet – they’re at somebody’s house for a play date – and she’s relishing the quiet when she hears the shower running upstairs. 

She sprints up the stairs faster than she thought possible and enters her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Andrew’s dirty clothes are _folded in a neat pile next to the hamper_ – really, Andrew? she thinks to herself – and she quickly peels off her own and leaves them scattered across the floor.

She quietly enters the shower and snakes her arms around his midsection; she feels him arch back into her arms and he turns around.

“Thank God it was you,” he smirks, and she laughs and lightly swats him. He turns them so she’s under the water and she tilts her head back, letting the water run over her hair and body.

“How was your day?” he murmurs, kissing along the column of her neck.

She grabs for the shampoo and massages it into her scalp. His hands join hers and hers fall away.

“Long, nothing particularly interesting. You?” She’s practically purring as his fingers stroke her hair and scalp.

“A lot going on in the pit. Scrubbed in twice, once with Webber, once with Karev.” He rinses her hair and grabs the soap, lathering it between his hands and then rubbing it down her arms. She steps closer to him and tilts her head up, giving him an impossible-to-misinterpret look. He smiles at her.

“Meredith?” His hands circle around her waist and he walks her back to the shower wall and he kisses her senseless.

_This_. This is what she wanted. To feel cherished and held and cared for. She has spent so many years of her life caring for others, dedicating her entire self and purpose to her family and her patients and her friends. This – this is just for her.

Later, after he’s pinned her against the shower wall and left her panting; after they’ve washed each other of all the evidence; after they’ve stood, holding each other, under the water as it turned cold—they’re lying on the bed, naked, facing each other, their feet tangled up and their arms casually slung over one another. His eyes are half-closed.

“Hey Andrew,” she says, her voice somewhat hoarse from the shower, “I noticed your clothes folded over there.”

His eyes shoot open with alarm. “Oh shoot, I meant to put them in my bag. I’m sorry – should I get them?” Meredith would laugh if it weren’t so genuine.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I meant… you can put them in the hamper, if you want.”

He raises one eyebrow, pushing a few damp locks of Meredith’s hair away from her face. “Really?”

“The only people who will see them are me and Tanya, and you’re over here enough, anyway.” She doesn’t mention that Maggie and Amelia also do her laundry, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Only if you’re sure.” His brow is knitted with concern – she can tell he’s thinking that he pushed her to do this, somehow.

“Andrew. It’s jeans and a t-shirt and some underwear. It’s not your record player.” As usual, he’s letting her dictate the rules – she’s ready for a certain amount, and he’s lock-step with her, making sure she’s okay with it.

He gets up and she immediately misses his warmth. He walks over to his little pile of clothes, picks them up, and ceremoniously throws them into the hamper. Meredith laughs. 

It’s these little perfect things he does that invigorate her, that make her so happy. That he could turn a step she’s decided to let him take into something they can laugh about – the way he puts her at ease.

Meredith gets up and throws on a t-shirt and jeans; the kids will be home any minute. Andrew, no longer grinning widely, goes into his bag and grabs a similar outfit. 

“You can come by again later,” she murmurs as she walks around the bed to him. He’s doing up the buttons on his jeans and she slides her hands up his chest and around his neck. “After the kids have gone to bed.”

Andrew smiles at her. “That sounds great. But…” She notices the smile isn’t quite reaching his eyes.

“Andrew?”

He exhales. “I want to tell you something, and I don’t want it to seem like I’m pushing you. I just… I’d like to spend more time with you.” His hands rest on her hips and she looks into his eyes and sees fear.

“We’re together all day at the hospital, Andrew. And we do spend several nights a week together.”

He swallows. “I know. But it’s always bits and pieces. I want to see you and I don’t know how to make that work.”

Meredith frowns a little. She knows what he means – he wants more. He wants to be able to fall asleep, wake up, go to work, come home, and make dinner with her. He wants more time and she doesn’t know if she can make that space yet.

She knows she _wants_ to. She knows she desperately wants to share her life again, and Andrew is worth it. But she also knows he’s young, and still working to establish himself, and if she’s honest, she’s a little bit scared. For him to be fully involved in her life – for him to be there with her family – it’s different, and it’s scary. Failure can’t be an option here.

She might have an idea, floating in the back of her head. But she has to think on it.

“Can I think a little bit?” Her eyes are sparkling at him, and she hopes he knows she isn’t mad. She smiles and she sees his face relax.

“Of course. Nine?” Andrew might not know her kids yet, but he sure knows their bedtimes.

“Sounds great.” She kisses him – never enough – and walks him out the front door. She feels a little pull under her ribcage as he leaves, and she knows exactly where he was coming from. She hates constantly saying goodbye to him.

Her kids arrive home twenty minutes later, as she’s reheating dinner and the sun’s drifting down toward the horizon. They invade her kitchen, talking a mile a minute about school, and their friends’ house, and how Tanya has promised to teach them how to make fancy cookies (their term for red velvet cookies) tomorrow when they get home from school.

Meredith loves them. She loves hearing about their lives. She loves hearing about what they want to do and how they feel. She realizes that she wants Andrew to know this too.

After she’s put Ellis to sleep, she spends some time with Bailey, helping him with a book he’s trying to read; then she puts him to bed and checks in with Zola about her English homework.

Once Zola is squared away in bed with a book and her headphones, Meredith heads down to the living room and flips open her laptop. She shoots Tanya a quick text and begins doing some research.

After half an hour, she hears a soft knock on the door. She looks up to see Andrew waiting there, his eyes smiling.

“Hey,” she breathes, and he steps in through the doorway and kisses her gently. He seems to read her like a book – knowing exactly what she needs and when. “Come to the living room. I want to show you something.”

Andrew drops his stuff in the hall and toes off his shoes. He follows her into the living room, both flopping down onto the couch. He slings his arm around her and she curls into him with her laptop resting on her knee as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I was thinking about what you said earlier – about wanting to see me more.” Meredith feels open, and exposed, and Andrew looks vaguely uncomfortable.

“Meredith, I didn’t mean to – if I upset you, I’m so sorry. I just – I really care about you, that’s all, and I want to be able to do more, to be more.” He’s blabbering, just a little bit, and Meredith melts.

“Andrew. Can you let me finish a sentence?” Her bemused look seems to calm him, and his frown lifts. “I just meant – I get where you’re coming from. And I agree. So, I checked with my babysitter, and this weekend, she’s taking the kids.” Andrew looks at her, confused. “You and I are going someplace secluded in the woods, that you will love, where I’ll probably get bitten by ticks, and we’re spending thirty-six hours together.” Andrew’s face lights up.

“Really?”

“I mean, if you’re interested. If you have to work…” 

Andrew shakes his head. “I’m off Friday and Saturday, just like you.”

Meredith smiles. “I wonder how you swung that.”

“I have my ways.” He smiles back, and gives her a quick kiss. “So, where is this place with the ticks…? And are ticks mandatory?”

Meredith laughs again. “I hadn’t decided.”

Andrew looks at her, face turning serious. “How about, rather than someplace with ticks, we go somewhere with good food, maybe some music, and public transit?”

Meredith wants to jump him right now. Instead, she settles for kissing him soundly. “That sounds great.” She gently puts her laptop on the coffee table behind her and straddles his lap. He’s beaming, and for a moment, they forget where they are as clothes are removed and hands slip into darkness. It’s only when she hears Maggie’s car in the driveway that they head upstairs to her bedroom, where his clothes once again reach the hamper and where Meredith once again finds herself pressed to the wall and oh-so-ready for him.

Several hours later, they’re both in bed, satiated, tickets to Vancouver bought, and she’s drifting off with him pressed to her back and his arm slung around her waist. 

She’s thinking, as she always does as she falls asleep.

She’s thinking that he’s the best thing that’s happened to her in a long time.

She’s thinking how, even when she was going to compromise and go somewhere sticky and tick-ridden, he knew what she wanted and was ready to do it.

She’s thinking that he’s the most even-tempered, even-keeled man she’s ever been with.

She’s thinking that twenty years ago, she never would have let someone this kind, this thoughtful, this nurturing insinuate themselves into her life.

A lot of things have had to happen for her to reach this stage – things tragic and joyful and middling and uninteresting.

But right now, she can’t be anything but grateful.

They’ll see how this weekend goes. They’ll see if they can be around each other and live with each other and not kill each other. She’ll see if he’s the person she really _can_ see helping her raise her kids. She’ll see if she feels comfortable embracing fear and letting him in. She’ll see if he might be the one she keeps wanting to wake up next to – maybe forever.

She’s really hoping he is.


End file.
